Purple Lingerie and Cheshire Cats
by EphemeralFoxes
Summary: Lily's diary, consisting of epiphanies, bruises. lingerie and love. Ending with a picturesque scene with a setting sun to be ruined by the untimely marauders. :


This fic started out as some english assignment in which we had to add an odd twist of events due to apocalypses and such, but then i had read fanfic before starting it and the next thing you know, it had been all about the legendary HP couple but i'm quite happy with the way it turned out despite the length.

The only downside is, now i have to write something else for english and catch up on work i was meant to e doing whilst slacking off and working on this TT

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_February 26__th__ 1978_

Dear Diary,

The apocalypse is coming. All hell will break loose. Even Superman can't save the world from this impending disaster. It'll be a catastrophe of mammoth proportions. The world is going to end.

And darn!

I won't even be able to leisurely enjoy the fruitions of my recent shocking fell out of bed and tripped down the stairs searching for Alice epiphany.

It was idiot really. I had been simply curled up in bed with my favourite comfy pyjamas on and reading this lovely sappy romance novel about this beautiful young maiden who fell for a dashing roguish pirate but couldn't deals and hated him instead but she finally gives in after many years and we discover that the pirate is in reality a young prince who decided to change himself and his appearance to find someone who truly loved him for him. But yes, I had been reading and thinking, "Darn! I can relate. I'm in a similar pickle myself." Then logic caught up to my sappy train of thoughts and I was simply lost, how could I relate to this girl if I had never been in such a situation.

Then I started thinking about the headboy and wandering when he'd be back. We become quite close since the start of the year, calling a truce and all. Then it hit me.

The epiphany it came like a speeding train and 'BOOM!', it was like a charging rhino. A strike of lightning , this sudden 'PING!' going off in my head as realisation hit me like a ton of bricks. And there we go back to the beginning. Me. Falling off my bed in shock.

Scrambling up like some possessed bunny I proceeded to stub my toe and trip down the stairs, rolling my way like someone stuck in a wheel, like jam in a jam donut right into the heads common room in my haste. I then proceeded some ancient ritual of those hit by a massive mind blowing epiphany and smashed myself straight into the closed portrait as though all thought had left me and travelling as the crow flies, ignoring all barriers is easier. Ridiculous me then picked herself and her smarting nose off the floor and yanked open the portrait hole cause the poor parrot on the portrait to flutter and squawk indignantly. My out of control limbs then speedily propelled me hurtling through the corridors like a comet or someone being chased by the angry devil himself towards Gryffindor tower where I was sure Alice would be.

After finally extracting myself from the mess I had been entangled into trying to slip through the Gryffindor portrait hole much to the amusement of all its occupants. I hopped around as I finally felt the throbbing pain of the recently stubbed toe. Alice sat mutely as I shot her a pleading gaze. She gave me a once over taking in the wild hair, the unusual attire, the glittering like a madman eyes, the flushed face and the crazy hopping she stood up smoothly and led me by my elbow up into our old... my old dorm room.

There she patched up my various scrapes and bruises associated with barging through the halls at a horrendous alarmingly fast rate like some crazed feral goat and proceeded to settle me onto her bed where I landed awkwardly, and shut and silenced her curtains. There we sat, her waiting expectantly and me, attempting to still catch my breath and replenish my very much diminished oxygen supply.

I was an idiot though because I began y saying "I..." a ludicrously large amount of times and continued with "l..." also a ludicrously large amount of times. So our conversation went something like this:

_Lily_  
Alice

_I... I... (puff puff) I lo... (pant pant) I really... I... I li..._

Catch your breath, then spit it out woman. Don't have all day, chop chop, it better be important and something that I can do something about.

_JAMES POTTER! _(yes, I know ridiculous isn't it? I couldn't say love, so I tried like and I couldn't do it either)

James Potter? (Alice sighs) what did he do this time?

_(I shake my head vehemently)_

That bad?

_(I shake my head again, incoherent fool I am)_

Not bad? (Alice wrinkles her brow in confusion now)

_He... He... I think...like... (looking down depressed)_

You... James Potter... Like? (darn she's smart like that, only picking up the relevant words)

_(I nod like some hyped up bobble head that sits on some people's dashboard)_

Alice freezes before me a moment before she blinks. Once. Twice. Thrice.

Then she cracks up.

Great best friend she is. She's hysterical like some drunk hyena and as incoherent as I was before my body regained some blessed oxygen.

...

Perhaps even less coherent. She wasn't even forming words.

But back to the apocalypse, epiphany and predicament. I was in a horrible state and after she calms down and wipes away her tears of laughter. She arranges her faces into a serious expression and asks me "What are you going to do?" She continues conversationally and suggests I rather:

Hunt him down, pull him into an empty classroom and snog him senseless

Jump him during our nightly patrols at around 10pm and snog him senseless in some hidden alcove

OR

Wait for patrols to end and pounce him in the Heads common room and snog him senseless, therefore having a bed or two nearby if things get heated.

They all sound slightly ridiculous but tempting, the third one is a bit overboard though, I mean getting shirtless and more when we're not even dating? Mmmmmmm... shirtless James Potter *drifts into daydreams.

But yes, I'd rather a more conventional approach of figuring out if we can become exclusive then getting physical. But then Alice is off digging through her never ending wardrobe and re-emerges from her brief adventure clutching a handful of silk, lace and netting. The pile is then launched at me.

I discover it's a deep purple negligee, very small, very flimsy and very very see through. I don't even see how this article of clothing can be considered clothing with the amount of skin it reveals and it's overly suggestive nature.

My so called best friend then launches into a very intricate plan which involves me in the deep purple bit of un-clothing since I am cynical as to how it covers anything. This plan also involves a couch, an apron, some water, a book, a pink or red luminescent pot plant, a paintbrush, 3 feathers, some chocolate, and some lotion. The intricacies and the details of the plan she babbles on about surprises me and makes me wonder whether it was planned beforehand without my knowledge prior to this occasion. I voiced this though and gave me this look that clearly proclaimed 'What do YOU think?'

Thus I settled into a lovely daydream surrounding a certain messy black haired Gryffindor and chocolate paint. Those daydreams will be the death of me one day I tell you. I am then startled out of my lovely daydream when Alice seemingly on a sugar high drags me up and proceeds to push me out of the room with the purple negligee in one hand and a large bag of suspicious items in the other. She so very eloquently yelled out as she shoved me out Gryffindor tower that I should, quote 'go sink your claws in that delectably handsome head boy of yours'

Now I am here, draping myself oh-so-artistically over the couches in the head common room, writing in the diary of mine proclaiming the end of the world. The fire is blazing merrily reflecting my oh-so-chipper mood, the large bag filled with suspicious looking items is sitting beside the couch of the floor and the purple sexy sexy looking thing? Well, I admit I was a bit curious and well I really couldn't resist, I mean I've never possessed anything so remotely... revealing before. So I'm kind of dressed in very see through purple at the moment.

Oh the woes of my life! Woe is me! Woe is me!

Woe...

Ehehehehheheh! The word has lost all meaning after such repetitive use. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe. Woe.

Damn my hysterical cackling and scribbling of the word woe (heh! Woe.) was interrupted by the portrait hole opening. Oh Fiddle, there is only one person able to enter this room other than me, one other person likely to enter this place, on other person to know the password. Oh fluff and bother, James Potter has arrived whilst I am in a hysterical state of mind from my epiphany. Fudge Sticks! The world has come to an end. WOE IS ME!

He just threw himself into the seat opposite me and is currently releasing a deep heavy sigh in his sexy sexy deep shivers down my spine voice. He had a bad day I suppose, what do I do? Would the suspicious objects in the bag help? I haven't even looked in there. Darn!

I'm being so sneaky, hee hee. Sneaking little glances at the deliciously fine specimen in an inert state currently opposite me.

MUAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAAAAA!

It is I! Lily Evans! Queen of all is sneaky and espionage and such business!

Oh Fudge, he's opened his eyes.

He's looking over. His eyes are widening. Why are his eyes widening? I haven't got anything on my face right? I'm still glancing at him, watching him and writing with all my covertness. :D

Ohh, he's saying something his deep husky manly manly and very sexy voice. *sigh

Oh Darn, I didn't hear what he was saying lost in all the lovely husky timbre of his voice.

So I ask him to please repeat the question.

So he says: You do realise what you're wearing in the presence of James Potter right?

...

...

OH MERLIN! OH FIDDLES! OH DARN! OH FUDGE STICKS! HOLY MOTHER OF PEARL!

I'm currently in hiding looking all for the life of me like some hideous blob curled up on my couch in shame, embarrassment and complete utter humiliation. And under James Potter's cloak. The cloak he threw on the table when he came in. The cloak I am huddling under. The cloak that smells like him. Like freshly cut grass, peppermint, chocolate and this musky male smelling scent that is all James Potter. Simply intoxicating I tell you. Intoxicating. Should e illegal to smell this good.

Ah, my eyes are probably going to die from the lack of light my wand is producing, probably caused by the odd angle I'm holding my wand at in these close quarters.

Did I mention that the annoyingly handsome and delectable bastard out there is currently trying to console me and stifle his laughter?

My best bet is to stop writing, put this away and deal with it.

So until then, where my relationship with aforementioned delectable bloke has rather dramatically declined or increased invigoratingly, (see the alliteration?)

Au Revoir!

Until next time, Darling confidant.

* * *

There is an audible snap as the indistinct blob known to be Lily Evans huddled on the couch under James Potter's cloak snaps shut the book she was previously scribbling feverishly into.

James Potter is currently kneeling beside what can only be assumed to be where Lily Evans' head is. He is poised ready to be sorry and such and reassure her he didn't see that much and all that bluster, but he really is in shock, the lingerie had looked so good on her. The deep purple colour contrasting beautifully with her creamy white skin and her lovely deep red hair. She had been a vision, a goddess bathed in light when he had finally opened his eyes. But then again she literally had been bathed in light by the fire creating flickering shadows across the contours of her body.

Finally after such a long silence created by James Potter being stuck in a reverie filled with images and memories of Lily, the subject of his thoughts peeked out, assuming him to be gone judging by the silence. She is greeted by the sight of him right in front of her. With a squeak, she buries her face, burning with mortification back into the dark recesses of the cloak.

Drawn out of his thoughts by the squeak, James Potter looks down and finally reaches to what he assumes is Lily wrist.

And luckily, it is.

He pulls her up against her own will, and steadies her. Although her face is still shadowed y the hood of her cloak, he bends down and pushes back the hood.

Lily is hanging her head even lower using her curtain of hair as a shield. He reaches forward and fixes the clasps of his cloak so she doesn't need to hold the cloak closed as tightly as she is. Her grip loosens by the slightest fractions.

He then pulls her towards him and hugs her as he is allowed since they have called a truce this year and have become quite close as friends.

"Are you embarrassed by your body or me seeing you dressed like that?" he asks carefully, quietly.

There is silence.

Then very timidly, in a voice so small that he wouldn't have heard if he weren't listening for it she whispers, "Both.".

He hugs her tighter and replies, his voice full of emotion, "I didn't really see that much you know, it was just a brief glimpse before I realised and averted my eyes cause it would've been rude and lecherous if I kept looking. Anyway, of what I did see and what I've seen over the years of you with your robes, in your uniform, and whilst out, you're gorgeous you know? You're beautiful, inside and out, down to the last freckle."

He smiles at her, this gentle, tender smile. The one reserved specially for her, and her only. The corner of his eyes crinkling with love. And she finally looks up. She sees the smile up close for what it is, what it means and why it's directed only at her for all of their years at Hogwarts. The magnitude of this simple yet sincere and completely loving gesture floors her. Her breath hitches in her throat. Her heart is fluttering wildly beneath her ribs. Her mind is complete mush with the exception of the thought James Potter. And she feels the butterflies in her stomach holding her there, in trembling anticipation.

Their eyes meet, and for once what's between them is clear, the truth is breathtaking. Golden hazel meets emerald green, and they stare for what seems to be an eternity. This is where you expect them to both lean in, their movements synchronised and then their lips will meet in an explosion of fireworks, passion and heavy breathing.

But they don't.

Because James is waiting, he is waiting for her to take the last step, to take the final lunge. He would do it but he is currently terrified, he's hesitating, he's starting to wonder if it'll ever work out, he doesn't want to lose the friendship they have acquired. He doesn't want to lean down and make the final move, because she might not want it, she might push him away and if she did, he doesn't think he will ever recover. Before he used to convince himself it was because she had never met the real James Potter, but now, now she knows him, if she pushes him away, he's quite sure his heart will shatter and the weak glue holding it together will run out and he'll be left with the messed up broken pieces.

Then she leans forward, she takes her arms out of his cloak, not giving a second though to her current state of undress, she reaches up, stands on the tips of her toes, wraps her small delicate hands around the back of his neck and they kiss.

For a moment, there is nothing, in their shock that it actually happened they don't react. Then something clicks, and everything shifts just the tiniest bit from the change that will alter the course of history.

Suddenly, there is the explosion, the fireworks, the music, a beautiful silent symphony that only they can hear. It not a hot hard kiss filled with need and brutal desperate passion. It is soft, gentle, everything a fairytale kiss should be, but still igniting the wonderful slowly burning fire that will keep burning like an ancient magical flame, never to be extinguished. Such is their love.

When they pull apart, they are slightly breathless, not panting like rabid dogs, just breathless from the plethora of emotions released from one simple gentle first kiss.

They look at each other, and smile. They're quite happy with the turn of events, quite happy with the way their life will be from now on. She leans her head down on his chest and he rests his chin atop her head. It is one of those beautiful picturesque moments you will only be able to see in a hallmark card. This is accented by the setting sun through the window showing off an array of pinks, golds and oranges, framed by deep red heavy velvet curtains and the flickering fire in the background.

A slight creaking is heard, and the portrait hole opens to reveal Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew standing in the doorway, grinning like Cheshire cats having observed the Lily Evans dot, almost atop the James Potter dot in the heads common room in the Marauder's Map. They had ignored James' rule of only using the password he'd given them to the Heads common room in an emergency. This was an emergency, Jamesie boy had finally gotten with the love of his life, Lily Evans.

James, who is facing the door gives them a pleading look.

Which they promptly ignore and hi five each other causing Lily to jump and turn around. To see them handing around money, and writing down time and date and setting to collect the winnings of bets which have lasted for the past 6 years.

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Review? i appreciate feedback, especially on stories that i actually liked to write.


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